We have an ancient refrigerator that is too small and badly designed. With the freezer part on top, we often have to crouch down or even get on our knees to reach foods at the back of the bottom shelves. A few months ago, my husband decided he wanted to get a new one and, for some reason, he became enamored with the idea of a side-by-side design – and the bigger the better. My daughters and I got on board when he agreed to a model with an automatic ice-cube dispenser in the door.
But where to put it? Our narrow, over-stuffed kitchen has a lot of window and little wall space. We contemplated ways to rearrange, but the only viable options were either to take down part of the wall cabinets and shorten our one and only, already small counter space, or to put the fridge in the adjoining living room. Of course, that would mean no ice.
“I don’t want a living room with a grand piano and a fridge in it,” I said. “That would look stupid.”
“Maybe we should just redo the whole kitchen,” my husband suggested. “And while we are at this, we really should replace that picture window.” (We’d had it made 20 years earlier by a cheap Slovenian carpenter. It warped over the years and now, when a strong wind blows, we hear it whistling through the cracks.) “Of course, then we would have to replace the other kitchen window at the same time,” he added.
Who was I to argue?
Enter my husband’s frat pal, who happens to be an architect and then his running buddy who happens to sell kitchens, and then our neighbor’s brother, who happens to own a local window-making factory. The running buddy came up with a great plan, which unfortunately will require us to replace ALL of our other appliances – stovetop, oven, microwave, dishwasher, and, I assume, the TV which will have to be mounted on a wall. We also will need an electrician to relocate all the outlets and a plumber to move the water lines and radiator.
All this for easy access to ice cubes.
I looked around my kitchen today. My old antique hutch will be relocated, but all the rest of the furnishings will be tossed, (probably ending up in some Hungarian or Romanian kitchen). Of the appliances, I saw only two items that will stay in there: the coffeemaker and the toaster.
That’s when it hit me. This guy is going to have to go. This . . . treasure. This old friend, so chock-full of sentimental value that I once wrote a whole post about it. (Well, actually, I wrote the post to get some payback after Ly dissed me in her blog . . . ) If this guy goes, her ugly coffee mug will win!
Maybe I don’t need a new fridge after all.
Too late. It’s a done deal. Orders have been signed and the dates of different project stages are already entered into our calendar. Three months from now, I will press my glass into the dispenser and listen to the clink of my first ice cubes dropping into it. If each cube gives me, let’s say, one Euro worth of satisfaction, and if I use, maybe, five cubes a day, then this fridge will have paid for itself in about 15 years.